Page 85 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

“I’m not sure I’d call that a platitude, but sure. You’re right. No one can really promise that until Locane is dead.”

I stop in my tracks—an uncomfortable squeeze clutching my gut. “Is he going to be executed?”

Kraeston gives me a searching look. “Would you be upset if he was?”

That’s a good question. I wouldn’t say I developed a loving affection for Locane. In fact, he often made me feel terrible. About myself, about the world, about everything. He’s utterly deranged and dangerous; the idea of him with godlike power makes me shudder. I haven’t asked anymore about the gems since I argued with Nana and Alec. I don’t currently have the capacity to care.

But do I want to see Locane dead?

“I can see your brain working, Princess. To answer your question on if he’ll be executed, Alec is waiting,” Kraeston states simply.

“Why?”

“Because your opinion on what happens to him matters, but you’re not in a place for those decisions yet. Even though I can’t promise, I am very confident that Locane won’t get out.”

Movement across the pitch breaks my attention from Kraeston. The constriction of my throat eases when a familiar form draped in purple waltzes through an open set of doors and begins walking across the training ring.

Nana smiles wide as she closes the space between us. “Elly, I was hoping I’d find you here when you weren’t in your room.”

“Did you need something?” I ask with a bite.

She gives me a soft smile. “Only to ask if you’d like to train with me today.”

Clearly Nana and Kraeston both had similar agendas to pull me from my solitude.

My shoulders sag, and I open my mouth to turn her down.

“Come on, Elly. Mhay is a much more worthy opponent than me with a staff.” Kraeston gives me a reassuring smile.

With minor reluctance, I show my agreement by going back to the rack of weapons and choosing a simple wooden staff. Nana follows suit.

“You don’t have your fenwood staff?”

“Oh, it’s here. But it wouldn’t be fair for me to fight you with that while you use this sad, little stick.” I chuckle and Nana lights up.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just happy to be spending time with you.”

We stretch for a minute before facing off. “I’ll try to go easy on you, Nana,” I quip.

She laughs. “I doubt that very much.” The purple sleeves of her dress drape towards the ground.

It will never cease to amaze me how Nana fights so effortlessly in all those trailing layers of gauze. Brief glimpses filter through mymind of her insisting I train in a dress—sessions that I found to be miserable. An involuntary smile tilts my lips at the memories.

We both do a quick twirl before dropping into a fighting stance and smile at each other.

Nana lunges for me.

She fights hard on the offense with multiple attack strikes, back to back to back—the purple fabric of her dress floating around her like storm clouds.

It’s all I can do to block her swings. I don’t even try to put in any attacks of my own.

She quickly snags the inside of my staff with a downstrike, disarming me.

“Now, Elly. Remember your strengths,” Nana says calmly, handing the weapon back to me.

She hasn’t even broken a sweat; I’m red faced and beginning to pant.